


Traffic Report

by Stxtic



Category: Danger Days: The True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys (Album)
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Grief/Mourning, Heavy Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Nonbinary Character, Past Character Death
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-06
Updated: 2019-05-10
Packaged: 2020-02-27 02:13:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,086
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18729646
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stxtic/pseuds/Stxtic
Summary: Bad news from the zones, tumbleweeds... Ghoul and Poison hear the traffic report. Jet Star and the Kobra Kid are ghosted, and Ghoul has to keep himself and Poison from falling apart.





	1. Chapter 1

When they hear it, crackling through the static of Poison's radio, they both freeze. Ghoul stares at the radio. He has to rewind, mentally, to process what he just heard, because it can't have been- When he heard Dr. Death's voice it hadn't even entered his mind that it would be anything but a routine report, and this-

His mind is racing and he feels like he's going to be sick, like he just got punched in the gut.

He is pulled back to earth by this weak, wordless noise of distress, and then the sound of a body slumping to the floor. Shit, Party.

He turns to see them on their knees, face white and stricken and eyes wide.

Party looks like they've just been shot, like they're about to die. Yeah, okay, focus on that, focus on them. That's better than the images flashing through Fun Ghoul's mind.

"No," someone says, voice breaking, and it takes his brain a second to realize it was Poison, and then somehow he's on his knees beside them.

"N-no, that's not- that can't- they can't-" They swallow thickly and try to catch their breath, which is coming in short, ragged gasps.

Ghoul isn't actually sure if he himself is breathing at all, his chest feels empty and his vision blurs, but he tries not to focus on that.

"Hey, Party, breathe," he hears his own voice say shakily, and hey, yeah, that's probably a good idea. He tries to steady the other killjoy's breathing as he restarts his own. But the icy, empty feeling in his chest doesn't go away.

Poison is shaking. He puts his arms around them and let's their head fall onto his shoulder.

"Just breathe, breathe," he keeps saying. He holds them close. They're shaking so much. He doesn't know what else to do.

They're still sitting like that when they hear a knock on the door, and then footsteps, and then Show Pony appears beside them.

"You heard?" she says needlessly. Her eyes are red.

Poison hasn't moved since she arrived, Ghoul isn't sure they know she's there. He shifts gingerly so as not to disturb them as he looks up at her.

"Is it true?"

The logical part of his brain has been telling him it is, trying to prepare him to face reality, but he can't help but feel nearly the same shock as before when she nods. Poison isn't even looking at her but even they go stiff and start shaking again.

Pony crouches to her knees and offers a hand toward them. "Here, I can take them-"

"No." He jerks back and pulls the trembling killjoy closer, protective. They still haven't moved. "No, I- they're-" he sputters. He finds himself wanting to say something like 'they're mine, you can't take them away from me, you can't take any of them.' But it's too late for that.

"Alright," she says, her voice softening as she sits down beside them. She sounds so sad. "Alright, Fun Ghoul, it's alright baby. I'm sorry." And suddenly he is the one shaking and sobbing and feeling like he's falling to pieces, and her hands are on his shoulders, but his arms are still around Party, he has to keep holding onto Party the way he couldn't hold on to-

He shoves that train of thought off its tracks with a shuddering sob. Because he can't think about them right now. He can't think about anything.

"You two should go lie down. The floor isn't comfortable."

It"s funny because Ghoul can't even feel it. He pretty much can't feel anything other than Pony's hands on his shoulders and Poison shaking in his arms. "Come on, can you stand up?"

He can. Maybe. He doesn't know about Poison, though. He shrugs.

Show Pony puts a hand on their shoulder and Fun Ghoul feels them shrink away, pull closer into his chest.

It's hard to speak when everything's so fuzzy and his tongue feels too big for his mouth, but he manages, sharply. "Stop. Don't touch them."

"Ghoul-"

"No, don't, you can't- they-" he trails off, and then she very deliberately meets his eyes with a wide, calm stare.

"I'm not gonna hurt them." She pulls his hand into hers from where it lies at Poison's waist, and gives it a reassuring squeeze. "Ghoul, you have to let go of them, okay? I know you want to help them but I need to get them off the floor."

He stares at her for a moment, and then slowly let's go. Poison doesn't move. Ghoul half expects them to collapse as soon as he moves away from them, but they don't, they're just stiff. He makes his way to a standing position and they're still just frozen on the floor, looking blank.

"Party?" Pony says softly. She waves a hand in front of their face. "Come on, baby, look at me."

They meet her eyes hazily, and make this soft, stuttering sound in the back of their throat like they're about to say something, but they don't.

She's brushing their hair out of their face and straightening their jacket. Her tone sounds like she should be talking to a child. "Hey, shh, it's okay. We're gonna stand up, alright? Come on." She offers them her hands, and when they don't react she takes them by the arms and guides them up off the floor.

It isn't that hard for Pony to get them to stand, they're not completely unresponsive, they're just all quiet and a little wobbly. But it seems like she's holding their weight as she maneuvers them into the bedroom. Ghoul mindlessly follows.

She sits Poison down on the bed, picks up the blanket and wraps it over their shoulders, and then she kisses their hair and murmurs something that Fun Ghoul can't hear. She's so gentle with them, like they're going to shatter. They don't react. They're just staring with wide unblinking eyes at the floor, mouth opening and closing like a fish, and it's starting to scare him how completely gone they are. He half wants to shake them and scream at them to wake up, snap out of it, come back.

But Ghoul just watches, frozen in the doorway. "W-why... why are they..." He gestures at the dazed killjoy.

Pony looks back at them, this sad, pitying expression on her face. "They're just in shock. Give them a little time, alright? They'll be okay."

Ghoul seriously doubts that. They can't be okay, he won't even be okay. Nothing is ever going to be okay again, not for Ghoul and Poison.

He practically stumbles over and slumps down on the bed beside them, and puts an arm around their shoulders. They crumple into his chest immediately. They're still shaking.

"Do you need anything?"

He blinks, and looks up to stare at Show Pony.

'My family,' he wants to say, but he doesn't. He just shrugs noncommitally.

"Alright. I'll be back," she says. "I'll bring food. You should sleep."

He nods, and then sighs and looks down, listening to Pony's footsteps receding.

He stares at Party. Their eyes are closed but he can tell they aren't asleep. He agrees with Pony: they need to sleep. He can't do much but stroke their hair away from their face and try not do disturb them until their breathing evens out, but he focuses on that. He can't think about anything other than Party Poison, keeping them safe and keeping them alive. He won't let himself think of anything else. Because the only other places his mind could go are the places he failed, and he's not going to fail this time.

He sits there for a long time, and the sky gets dark, and Poison becomes a dead weight in his lap. He just watches them and breathes and feels his insides twist with every inhale. He doesn't move. He doesn't even cry.

He doesn't remember falling asleep, but he wakes up in a really weird position. He's folded over with his legs hanging off the edge of the bed. Poison is crumpled in his lap, and his head is resting on their hip. Everything hurts.

He starts to sit up and memories of yesterday flood back, and that hurts infinitely more than his awkwardly twisted spine.

He pulls himself up, and then stops because Poison is asleep, and really the last thing he wants is to wake them. They shouldn't have to wake up and suffer through the same icy shock and pain and racing thoughts as yesterday.

Suddenly he really wants to go back to sleep. And why not? He looks down at what remains of his world, still and quiet in his lap. And then he flops back, stretching out across the bed. He tries to forget what happened as he slips back into a graciously dreamless sleep.

When he next looks up it's much brighter out the window. Poison has shifted so they're facing the ceiling, and their eyes are open.

"Hey," he murmurs. He sits up and they don't move. "You slept awhile, I think. You feel better?"

Poison blinks up past him, and shakes their head weakly.

He sighs because of course they don't, and he doesn't expect them to. He definitely doesn't feel better.

"Show Pony said she'd be back," he says. They look at him blankly, brows furrowed.

"She said- you don't remember? She said she'd bring food."

There isn't any recognition in their eyes, they just roll onto their side with a grimace, curling up under the blanket.

"Are you hungry?"

They swallow and shake their head.

Which, bullshit. He knows they're hungry. Or rather he knows that they need to eat whether they want to or not.

It's worrying if they don't want to though, because normally they never turn away food, especially if they're sad. There were problems when he first met them, but after a few close calls and a very angry telling off from Kobra it barely came up again. It's been so long since then.

But nothing's normal anymore. This is so far beyond anything that's happened, to either of them, and nothing makes sense now.

It's got to just be the effort it takes, but shit, Ghoul will spoon feed them himself before letting them starve.

He tries again later, after a day of watching them lie still and do nothing.

"Party. You've been in bed for a day and a half. You haven't eaten, and that's not like you. You're barely even sleeping, man, you're just lying there. This has to stop at some point."

Poison doesn't respond. They're lying still, eyes open but blank. They look dead. Ghoul forces that thought out of his mind.

"I'm gonna bring you some food, okay?"

Still no words, but they let out a wobbly sigh and their red rimmed eyes flick in Fun Ghoul's direction. So at least he knows they heard him. He nods at no one in particular, sighs and starts towards the kitchen.

In terms of food, their options are limited. There's Power Pup, but as soon as Ghoul sees it his mind is thrown back to the time he and Jet were laughing at Kobra's failed attempt to eat it without gagging. He pushes the can and the memory away.

Other than that there isn't much. There's juice, and yeah, that might work. Low effort, simple, and maybe it isn't technically food but at least it's something.

He grabs the can of juice and goes back to the bedroom.

"Hey, here," Ghoul says. He holds out the can and Party stares at it. He waves it toward them. "Pois. Come on."

They just keep staring, eyes wide.

"I don't want that," says a low, broken and barely familiar voice.

"You have to have something. You can't starve yourself. If you go without food for long-"

"Not long," they croak. "It won't be long."

He blinks. "What?"

They're silent for a few moments, and then they give a long wavering sigh. "A-are they-" they start flatly, finally looking up to meet his gaze and taking the drink. "Are they coming home. I want them to come home, wh- When will they come home?"

Ghoul stares, unable to answer. Poisons eyes are so tired and lost, waiting for a response. But he can see, behind the haze clouding their eyes, they know the answer already. Poison knows in their heart they're never coming home.

He stares for a moment longer, and then sits down beside them and takes the drink from their frozen hands. "Here," he says, opening the can. "Come on, Party."

He puts it back in their hands and then presses a kiss to the side of their hair. They fumble for a second and take a tiny sip.

He hopes the calories will help cut through that fog in their eyes. They look so lost, so absent.

"When will they come home?" he thinks to himself. "When will you?"


	2. Chapter 2

"Poison," Ghoul says the next morning, standing beside the bed where they lay shrouded in blankets. "You gotta get up."

They don't respond. He sighs and tries again. "Pois."

Poison barely moves, barely even twitches for a few moments, and Ghoul thinks maybe they're asleep. Then they shift and roll sluggishly until Ghoul can see a shock of frazzled red hair and matching eyes.

"Hey."

Party stares at him, and then blow out a wobbly breath and pull the covers back up.

"Hey, wait, come back." Ghoul reaches out and pulls the covers down a little, and they groan and squeeze their eyes shut.

"What." they say after a moment, voice icy and rough with sleep.

"Please wake up."

He honestly doesn't want to disturb them, but he has to. It's mostly because he knows they shouldn't lay in bed for this long wasting away. It isnt healthy. It's at least half because of that.

"Party, please."

The other half is because the silence is getting fucking unbearable. Ghoul feels like ghost in a haunted house, wandering the halls like he has been for days, waiting for Poison. The diner is so quiet now. The silence is like a thick static hanging in the air, and it makes his thoughts that much louder.

Finally Poison sighs and sits up, slow and heavy and shaking. Their eyes are red and bleary and their skin is pale, almost grey. They look older than they did before it happened. It's been two fucking days.

And now they're staring at him like he just pissed in their Power Pup.

"What." Again.

He sputters kind of helplessly for a moment. "I- I just- can you fucking talk to me, Poison?"

"What do you want," they say as snottily as they can manage.

He takes a low breath and tries to swallow the anger in his throat. "I want you back," he says, and it comes out low and cracked.

They blink, stare at him with their fingers twisted into the sheets. "I'm right here, Ghoul-"

"But you're not!" He cuts them off, voice rising. "You're fucking who knows fucking where. You can't just drop out of the world like this."

"Why not?"

"Because I'm still here!"

Because the diner isn't empty yet, but the two of them are sure as fuck acting like it.

But they're still staring at him, eyes tired and full of disdain, like they don't even want him in their sight. So he huffs and turns and storms out into the hallway.

He goes into the bathroom beside Party's room. He's still buzzing with anger, and before he can think he slams his fist into the wall next to the doorframe with a crackling bang that shakes the tiny room.

He hears a muffled, startled curse from the bedroom, and then a shuffling noise, and then suddenly Poison is standing in the doorway.

"Oh, you're up?" Ghoul spits without thinking. Poison wobbles like they've been hit and their mouth snaps shut, and a little bit of regret rises into Ghoul's throat. But he doesn't say anything, he just stares, and they stare back, eyes dark and steeled and stormy.

Finally they let out a breath, slow and wavering, and shake their head. They turn and shuffle out of the bathroom.

"I'm going back to bed," he barely hears them murmur, just before the door slams shut.

For the rest of the day the silence screams. Ghoul stalks the halls, more ghostlike then ever, and his footsteps don't even make a sound. He doesn't speak to Party.

When he next sees them they're not in bed, they're sitting at the diner booth staring into a bottle of vodka. Ghoul doesn't exactly think he should count that as an improvement.

He sits down across from them. They don't react.

He watches them tilt and slump against the wall, hands shaky as they pour out a torrent of bitter liquid that splashes onto the table. It takes them too long to get their balance as they pick up the drink, and he really wants to go over and steady them.

"Party," he says softly.

They look up and blink at him sluggishly. "What."

He takes a deep breath. "You okay?"

"Ha, yeah," they scoff. Their voice is thick, rippling like a puddle of water. "I'm. Yeah, fuckin' shiny, Ghoul." They sound so tired. They look tired, like they might pass out there against the diner window.

"Hey, maybe you should go back to bed," Ghoul suggests tentatively.

Poison fixes him with a blurry lopsided stare. "You said-"

"I know what I said, but I didn't mean... look, Party, this isn't helping you, okay?"

Party stares some more. They swallow thickly. "You know fuck all about what's helping me."

"I just don't want-"

"Leave me alone, Ghoul."

"Party," he says, trying to keep his voice from breaking.

"Just leave me alone!" They look up at him and now it's their voice that cracks. "Please."

He stands and turns away rapidly so they don't see the tears in his eyes. He hears a thud that could be Poison's fist against the wall or their head against the table. He doesn't check.

As he's about to slip into the back rooms, he hears a small, low voice say "wait, don't."

He stops.

"D-don't leave me alone, I'm sorry, please, just-" Their words are running together so he can barely understand them but they suddenly sound so terrified, so honestly scared that he would leave them there.

He blows out a shaky breath, turns and goes back to the table.

They're trying to stand but keep slipping back into the seat, so he gathers them up into his arms. They stand like that for a while, and Party is swaying, but Ghoul is still and silent.

"Bed," he says. It isn't a question.

They nod helplessly.

It's not easy getting Poison into bed. Or maybe it is, or it should be, but it takes so much more energy than Fun Ghoul even thought he had. He manages it, though, silently and stiffly like he can't feel the exhaustion behind his eyes.

Poison won't look at him, they're just staring at the floor like they've done something wrong. That's fine. They're no longer starving or drinking themself to death and honestly, that's as fine as Ghoul can see it getting.

He scrubs a hand over his face, sighing, and flicks his eyes up toward the ceiling. He's so, so tired.

They wake up that evening and throw up three times. Ghoul is at their side, watching himself as with stiff movements he pushes their hair away from their face and holds them and comforts them. He watches himself get the miserably hungover killjoy back into bed. It doesn't take as much convincing. They still won't look him in the eyes.

He lets himself collapse once they're back asleep, but by now he doesn't really see a point. He rests but he's still tired when he gets up.

"Ghoul," Party croaks out the next morning. They're still hungover, he can tell.

"What."

"I'm sorry."

"It's okay," he says reflexively, and then says, "For what?"

"I... this."

"What's this?"

"What happened to them...-"

"Are you okay?" He says after a moment, a reflex, because his mind's going places he doesn't want it to.

"No," they say. "I'm sorry."

"For-"

"I'm sorry I'm not okay."

Ghoul stares at them, saying nothing. He doesn’t have anything to say, though he gets the feeling there’s something specific he ought to say. Something comforting, something that would get that fuzzy, empty haze out of Poison’s eyes even if just for a second. But now, when every shred of normalcy is gone from his life, he can’t quite bring the words to his mind.

Show Pony would probably know what to say. Or Dr. D. Or Jet Star. Hell, Kobra Kid wouldn’t even have to say anything, he’d just give Poison that cocky little sibling mindmeld look and-

And Ghoul’s mind is wandering again, and he pulls it back from the edge of that particular cliff with enough force that it pulls him out of bed. The blood rushes to his feet for a moment and his vision goes black.

He rubs his eyes and blinks away the pounding pain in his temples, and when he can see again Poison is siting up and staring at him.

“Are _you_ okay?” they ask, kind of sarcastically. He likes hearing that tiny, snarky little edge in their voice, like a flickering little memory of who they were a few days ago.

He sighs and nods. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m just… I- can I- do you want me to stay here?”

They blink at him for a moment and then shrug.

Part of him wants them to say yes. Part of him- no, most of him, actually- doesn’t really want Poison out of their sight.

“I’m gonna go get some water,” he says anyways. His head is pounding and he isn’t even hung over.

He walks to the kitchen, catching his balance on the doorframe as he passes. His eyes snap to the floor as he crosses the main room, and he skirts around the radio sitting on the table. God, his thoughts are like fucking minefield recently. He's tired of treading carefully and trying not to set them off.

He gets to the kitchen and opens the icebox and by then he's almost forgotten why he came, his mind is filled with static as he tries to keep Dr. D's voice from echoing through his head.

He stands there, he doesn't know how long, as the cold stings his raw cheeks and he tries to think.

Water. Right.

He grabs a bottle and closes the icebox, and hurries back into Party's bedroom.

"Water," he says pointlessly, setting the bottle down on the little nightstand. Poison is fiddling absently, not looking up. Ghoul scrubs a hand over his eyes and sits down beside them.

It takes him a second to register what they have in their shaky hands, and as soon as he does he takes it and sends it spinning through the air in one practiced movement. The knife lodges itself in the opposite wall.

It takes Poison a second to register that the knife is not in their hands. They stare at it where it landed, and then speak, their voice creaky from disuse. "Ghoul, what the fuck."

"Don't play with knives, Poison, don't scare me like that."

"What, you... you think I was gonna-"

"I don't know, I'm just being cautious, okay?"

"I wouldn't- I wasn't-" they sputter weakly.

"Okay. I get it, I just... here, I'll give you something better to fidget with."

He searches for a moment, and then slips a bracelet off his wrist. It's the one with the carved wooden beads, symbols blessed by the Witch.

He hands it to Party. They stare at it blankly, stimming with clumsy, uninterested movements. And suddenly Ghoul is thinking of Kobra and he breathes out a sigh that makes his chest feel empty.

"You really think I would try anything with you there?"

He doesn't know. "No," he says. "But sometimes I'm not there, what about then?"

They hesitate. Only a few moments but it's too long. He hears his breath come out shaky.

"Ghoul, I wouldn't-"

He turns on them, and maybe his face is a little more angry than he wants it to be because their mouth snaps shut and their eyes go wide.

"You won't," he hissed. "Don't even fucking think about it. You won't because I'll be there, you hear me?"

"Okay-"

"I'll fucking be there."

"Okay. I'm sorry, okay." Their voice cracks and their eyes are swimming. "Okay- okay- I'm- I'm..."

He pulls them into his arms as they dissolve, their muttering turning to sobs. They're still clutching the bracelet.

"I'm sorry," he whispers, trying to calm them, and they whisper it back, shaking. "I'm so sorry."

For getting upset, for making them upset, for not being there. For not being enough. For everything.

Later, while Party is still in bed, Ghoul hides all the weapons in the diner.


	3. Chapter 3

Party's doing okay, kind of, and does it make Ghoul a horrible person if that scares him a little?

They were bad, really bad, and now they're a little better. But he isn't. He keeps getting worse. He keeps feeling more and more exhausted, feeling his mind drifting more and more towards things he wants to forget.

He finds himself in front of the diner, smoking a cigarette he doesn't remember lighting, thinking about Kobra Kid.

Kobra's older than Ghoul but Ghoul always felt the need to protect him. Something about being Party's younger brother. Ghoul's practically still a child but he still always saw Kobra as the baby of the group, not himself.

Kobra was older than him, but soon he won't be. Kobra doesn't get to grow older anymore. He doesn't get to look back and laugh about being a moody teenager. He doesn't get to drink too much on his twenty first birthday (legal drinking age means nothing anymore, but hey, it's tradition). He doesn't get to shove it in Show Pony's face when he's finally old enough to be trusted with the station. He doesn't get an end to his childhood.

Kobra is forever nineteen and scared and confused and waiting for life to start to make sense. And the unfairness of that makes Ghoul feel like he's going to vomit.

He needs to lie down after thinking all that. It exhausts him. He can feel tears brimming in his eyes and he blinks hard, wiping them away before he goes back to Party's room.

"Where you been?" Poison says, that soft creakiness in their voice telling Ghoul they just woke up. They're sitting up on the edge of the bed, hands twirling absently at a matted tangle in their hair. They raise an eyebrow and go still as Ghoul sighs and crawls up onto the mattress.

"Outside," he mutters. His face lands in the pillow and he groans softly, squeezing his eyes shut.

Poison stays still and silent. Then Ghoul feels their weight shift, and then they're laying next to him. He rolls over and opens his eyes.

Party's expression is still slack and tired, but there's worry behind it, more than Ghoul has seen in days. "Ghoul," they start lowly. He raises an eyebrow.

"Are you sure you're-"

"Yes." He cuts them off emphatically and buries his face in the pillow again. "Yes, I'm fine. I'm totally alright. Don't worry about me."

"I am worried about you," they grumble.

"Don't be." He uncovers his face again, looking up at Poison with one bleary eye. They're still staring at him with concern. His hand reaches up and strokes through the tangled mess of Party's hair, and he tries at a small reassuring smile.

"I'm fine," he murmurs as they whine and nuzzle up into his touch, already slipping back to sleep.

And he is fine, he's pretty sure. He's so fucking tired he doesn't know how he's standing, but other than that. Objectively, he's worse off than he's been since he can remember, yeah, but right now it's like he can't even feel it, like it's all frozen over. He's not angry or in shock, he isn't even that sad. He's just... fine. Ghoul is fine.

The next day he finds himself in Jet Star's room. He doesn't know how or why. He's been just finding himself in a lot of places recently, like someone else is moving him through life and he just keeps not noticing.

The room smells like hair products and gasoline and the faint smell of flowers. It smells like Jet Star.

Ghoul's caught between wanting to run out and never wanting to leave. He shuffles backward and ends up falling onto the bed next to the door.

He shouldn't be here. He should be with Party, except Party's sleeping and he can't sleep right now, as tired as he is. He doesn't want to dream.

But he should be doing something, anything other than sitting in this room and reminding himself of the people he failed to protect. The last thing he wants is to break down, to be more of a failure, so he swallows back the tears that spring to his eyes as he breathes in the air. As he looks around at a room that might never be used again.

He's sitting on something, he realizes, something other than the pillows and thin blankets of the bed. He stands and looks, and then he freezes. His heart is caught in his throat and his head is spinning.

And then he's on his knees and all that icy shock and pain of the last few days is pouring out of him in shaky sobs, and he's holding Jet Star's leather jacket and crying, and he can't get it to stop by the time Poison appears in the doorway.

"Ghoul-" Party starts, and stops, probably when they see what he's holding, and Ghoul looks up to apologize but all that comes out is this horrible anguished whimper. He's shaking so much.

Then suddenly Poison is beside him, their hands are in his hair and their arms are around him, and he wishes he could catch his breath enough to tell them he's okay except he's not. Jet and Kobra are dead and nothing is okay.

They're shaking too, he thinks. It's hard to tell. His vision is blurred so he can't see their eyes. He can hear their breath wavering, though, and he tells himself he should be comforting them, but he can't, he can't do anything. He sits with his face buried in the jacket and he hiccups and sobs and screams, he actually screams with the pain that he's suddenly feeling after days of being numb. He screams like if he's loud enough they might hear him and come home.

It feels like a long time that they're sitting there, and he's shaking and sobbing, and Poison's got their arms around him almost holding him upright. Eventually he lets his head flop over onto their shoulder. He's breathing hard and steady.

"What happened," Party says finally.

He swallows and tries to produce words and his voice comes out rough and squeaky. "I'm. I'm so tired." His eyes are closed, his whole head is throbbing and his throat is raw. "I can't- I'm just s-so-"

He's just so empty. Like everything he had left in him just disappeared with the tears soaked into Jet Star's jacket. He's just so, so incredibly tired he doesn't even think he can move.

He forces his eyes to open and glances up furtively at Party, only to look down when he sees the pain and pity in their face.

"Sleep," they say.

"No, I- I can't, I-"

"Yes you can. You don't even have to stand, just go to sleep right here. I've got you."

"B-but-"

"I've got you." Their voice is low and trembling, but he can hear them trying to still it. "We can stay right here, just rest."

And Fun Ghoul can't, just can't say "are you alright," he can't say "you should rest," or "it's okay," he can't say that he's fine. Because he's not. He's so tired. He doesn't even care if he dreams. He keeps his fingers twisted into the jacket, which is damp with tears by now, and slides down into Party's lap.

He listens to their soft, wobbling voice, but he doesn't hear what they're saying because his mind is filled with the scent and the memories of Jet Star.

When he next picks up his head he feels like it might break. His cheek is damp and raw and sticks to the leather jacket under his head, and his nose is blocked.

"Party?" he squeaks.

He can feel them there, he's laying in their lap, but he hopes at least they're getting some sleep.

They're not; they run a hand through his hair and blow out a shaky breath. "Hi."

"Hi."

"It's almost morning."

Ghoul pushes his damp hair off of his face and presses his fists into his eyes until he sees spots. Then he blinks up at them. "Did you sleep?"

They shake their head.

He sighs weakly. "You didn't have to-"

"Ghoul, it's fine." Their voice is soft and tired sounding, they're blinking slowly, and Ghoul can tell they need to sleep. "I'm fine."

"You're not," he says.

They sigh and shake their head. "You're not either."

Ghoul sits up and leans back against the wall behind the two, and looks down at the jacket in his hands. It's big, and soft from wear, and the flag sewn into the back still looks good (it's damp now but other than that.)

He runs a hand over the design.

Then he holds it out. "Here."

Poison blinks. "W-what?"

"Here."

"Why?"

He sniffs. "Because I've been, you know, fuckin' crying on it all night. Here."

They stare.

"Take it."

After a moment they take the jacket with shaking hands. Ghoul doesn't speak, he just watches as they stare at it. Their face is blank. It reminds him too much of that day, the way they were so completely... gone, mentally. That's the only way he can explain it. It reminds him of that.

"Party," he says softly. "You okay?"

Party's eyes linger for a moment on the jacket, and when they finally meet Ghoul's they are swimming. They shake their head.

Then they put the jacket down in their lap and pull him into their arms. Ghoul stiffens for a second. Then he- well, he doesn't really have the energy to hug back but he kind of nuzzles into their chest and tries to be soft.

They sit like that with Ghoul drifting in and out of consciousness for what must be a while, and then finally some of that dull ache of exhaustion has left his eyes, and he looks up to see that Poison is asleep.

He sighs and stretches, and then he shifts to get them into a better position, so their head is on his shoulder. Maybe he should just wake them up and get them to bed, actually. Seeing as how he was the one who kept them up all night sitting on the floor, he should at least make sure they're comfortable now.

He wonders whether he should move them or let them sleep here for a while, and before he can decide Show Pony appears.

"Fun Ghoul?" she calls from the front door.

Fun Ghoul goes to yell back, but Poison is sleeping so he stays quiet and listens as Pony's footsteps wander through the diner.

Eventually she arrives at Jet Star's room. Ghoul looks up at her and kind of nods a greeting.

"Hi, baby," she says softly. "Sorry I didn't come back."

"You're back now."

"Yeah. I would have been back sooner, but Dr. D kept me at the station, plus I've been looking for Cherri. We haven't seen him since..." She trails off. "Well, I brought food."

He nods, and then turns to softly shake Poison awake. "Party. It's time to wake up, Show Pony's here."

They blink awake slowly and look up at him, then at her. Then they look around at their surroundings, and then down at the jacket in their lap. And then at Show Pony again.

She smiles. "Morning, dust angel. I brought you some food. Hungry?"

Finally they snap out of it and start to unfold themself, wincing and pulling themself off the floor. Ghoul does the same.

"Hi," they say to Show Pony once both of them are on their feet. Party kind of sways back and forth, fiddling with the jacket in their hands.

"Hey," Pony says. She steadies them and brushes a tangle of hair out of their face. "You look better. Since the last time I was here, I mean."

They give that blank stare again. "Last time?"

"Yeah, when I came over a few days ago, remember?"

They shake their head.

"It's okay, you were kind of out of it."

Understatement of the year, Ghoul thinks. They didn't even seem like they knew they were alive until probably the next day. Hell, they still seem totally checked out most of the time.

Pony is leading them out of the room, and Ghoul follows. They go to the main room and sit down at the booth.

The food is basic, some bread and cactus fruit. But it isn't drugged or canned or made for dogs, so it's basically gourmet in Ghoul's book.

"We'll have some runners coming in soon so we'll have real city food. I'll bring you guys some when they get here."

Ghoul is barely listening, he's busy watching Party. Party looks like they're just kind of going through the motions of eating. Staring at the plate and repetitively shoving food into their mouth, chewing and swallowing like they can't even taste it. But they're *eating*. Fucking finally.

Ghoul wonders if Poison has been finding themself places. He imagines so, given how totally absent they always are. He wonders how much of the last few days they even remember.

"You hear me, Ghoul?"

He's pulled down from his train of thought by Show Pony nudging his wrist, and he flinches. She raises an eyebrow.

"Huh?"

She sighs. "I was saying how Dr. D has a couple 'joys patrolling the major routes into zone 4. But that doesn't mean you're safe. You still gotta be on high alert."

"H-high alert?" His voice comes out a little strangled.

"Yeah, you know... considering... recent events." She speaks gingerly, almost wincing. "Might wanna play things safe."

Nothing she said was new information, so he doesn't know why he feels his heart freeze a little at her implications. That those white suited bastards, the ones who did this are still out there. That they could come back, come *here*. The thought makes his stomach seize and his chest start to shrivel. His eyes shoot to Party, who's staring with gritted teeth at their food. Their left hand twists into the jacket laying at their side.

"In fact, honestly, this might not be the best place for you two," Show Pony goes on. "You could find a new flop for a while, one where the doc can keep an eye on ya-"

"No," Poison croaks abruptly, stuttering out of their silence, sporkful of food wobbling still halfway to their mouth. "No, we can't. We can't leave."

She looks at them for a moment, and then speaks gently. "Poison, baby, listen, don't you just think-"

"No." They put the food in their mouth and swallow thickly. "No, we can't- w-we can't. Can't leave here."

Pony looks at Ghoul. Ghoul wants to contribute an opinion, but for some reason the logical part of his brain is still burying itself in the sand. He scrambles for a coherent thought and lands on Party's words.

"Yeah," he says. "Yeah, we can't leave here."

He understands. He doesn't want to lose this place either. It's empty and too fucking quiet and it doesnt feel like home anymore, but other than Party it's all he has.

"Okay," Pony says. She sighs, and then slaps her knee softly and starts to stand. "Okay. I'll be back soon to check in. But you two..." She hesitates for a moment, and then says, "You gotta kinda snap out of it. I know what happened, I know how fucked everything is. But you can't let your guard down now."

Ghoul swallows dryly and nods. Pony puts a hand on his shoulder, gives the two a smile that tries at reassuring but comes a little short.

"I'll be back," she says again. She leaves the food and the dishes on the table, turns and walks out. Was she wearing rollerskates last time she was here? When did she take them off? And how didn't he notice?

Ghoul spends the rest of the day floating from one window to the next, staring out at the horizon. He watches for approaching white figures until the sunrays soak ino his eyes and leave behind a stinging afterimage. By night he's exhausted, but his eyes feel jammed open. He feels fucking caffienated, he's all shaky and hypervigilant.

He steps away from the window and sits down, and then falls back into the bed with a sigh. His head hurts. Everything hurts, even after a night of sleep. He wonders if this pure exhaustion will ever fully leave him.

Poison comes in before long. They're shaking a little as they crawl into bed.

"Hey," he murmurs. They collapse partly on top of Ghoul, their bony shoulder pressing into his side and their head on his chest. He sighs and puts one arm around him, and he can feel their breath hitching, like they've just been crying.

"Ghoul."

"Yeah?"

"Are- are we- are we gonna leave?" they stammer. "We can't. We can't leave, not- not permanently-"

"We're not," he says. "If you say we're staying, we're staying."

Poison sighs, long and wavering and low, and then goes quiet. They nuzzle into Ghoul's chin, and eventually their eyes are squeezed shut and their shaking slows to a soft tremor.

Ghoul doesn't sleep. He never does. He lies awake and holds Party close to the ache in his chest, and listens for the sound of engines.


End file.
